


Soft Curves

by shatterthefragments



Series: Prompted Stories [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baking, Chubby Kink, Chubby Sam, Cooking, Desserts, Feeding, M/M, Popcorn, Stuffing, Weight Gain, feeder, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatterthefragments/pseuds/shatterthefragments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt was: "Could you please write a chubbykink where Sam's basically always having butter soaked popcorn because he has access to it now and it along with Dean's burgers catch up to his waistline rounding it out? Like he can get butter without worrying about anything?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Curves

Back when they were kids, butter wasn't easily come by in the Winchesters' temporary motel rooms.

 

Most of the time they didn't stay long enough to use the whole stick of butter, and it's not like they'd keep it in a cooler in the trunk... that was for the beer. Sometimes it would be a week before they reached somewhere with a fridge again. It just wasn't practical. After all, butter was damn expensive, and sometimes they were uprooted yet again without warning. In the long run, it just wasn't worth it. Besides, there were other things that they could eat, and if _Dean_ could go without butter in the  little kitchenettes, so could Sam.

 

But that didn't mean that Sam liked going without butter.

 

Butter was  freaking _awesome_ . It tasted awesome on basically anything and could be put in anything as well. It was an essential ingredient in nearly everything that you can bake.  If you take a flake of it and melt it on your tongue, it was freaking awesome... okay, maybe Sam had a bit of an obsession with butter.

 

So, while Sam was a child, he was mostly without butter, and tended to stick to healthier meals when they stopped for food, if it wasn't just a salad outright. Maybe he had a butter fixation because he never got it as a kid.

 

But that doesn't really matter now. Sam's Sam, and Sam has a butter fixation... or as Dean would always singsong triumphantly _“You're not getting out of the happiness triangle of the food pyramid ever again,”_ but never got a rise out of Sam, who'd usually watch on in amusement, munching on his butter soaked popcorn... or other various buttery snacks

 

When Sam got to Stanford, his diet stayed the same... for the most part. He'd go out to the movie theatre sometimes on the discount days with his friends and  get  a bag of popcorn, extra butter. Jessica would bake, once they moved into their apartment together.  After a  really good sale at the grocery store, there would often be three butters in the fridge and another ten  or so  in the freezer.  Sam didn't put on any weight at Stanford until Jess started making the most heavenly chocolate chip and shortbread cookies. They used a pound of butter each. 

 

Sam decided that it wasn't really enough weight to worry about, and either way, ten  or twenty  extra pounds  on his tall frame was definitely not worth giving up Jess' cookies.  Jess liked to  try to  pinch at  the slight softness of  his stomach at night anyways.

 

On the road with Dean, Sam found no joy in eating anything, but he could stomach his salads. It hurt if he even so much as looked at a home-baked cookie.

 

Over time, once they had the bunker as a home base, Sam started to open up to more foods again... foods that his salad - fuelled body wasn't used to after so many years. 

 

This was in no small part due to Dean's insistence that if the bunker had such a spacious, nice kitchen, it w ould be a shame if it didn't get used.  They were there if they weren't on a hunt, so their fridge filled with all sorts of foods. Several varieties of meat,  milk, cream, some vegetables,  beer,  fruits, cake, and, of course, butter.  Besides, Dean discovered that doing things in the kitchen was both a talent and a love of his.

 

For breakfast, Sam usually had toast, eggs, and fruit. If Dean was up, he'd make breakfast for the both of them – usually pancakes or waffles with fruit and bacon with extra syrup for Dean and extra slices of butter to melt on Sam's. Lunch was something that each made for themselves. There was a snack after that, before the dinner that Dean made. Dean tended to make a meal centred around meat. Usually burgers, or a roast, if he had enough time in the day. Either way, Dean always made sure to have pie ready at the end of the meal.

 

Sam bought a hot-air popper and a bunch of different kinds of kernels to try. He'd have a bowl of popcorn for his snack most days. It only took one week until he used up all the butter in the fridge.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at him when he caught on that most of the butter they bought ended up inside Sam's stomach, but he didn't really mind. He had his pie, candy, ice-cream, and alcohol, Sam had his butter.

 

They both shared their other meals, only slight variations on each other, and for all Dean thought that Sam would complain about how half the substance, at minimum, should be green, Sam ate anything that Dean pushed over to him without complaint.

 

Of course, switching from salads to rich meals and excessively buttered popcorn as a snack each day wasn't exactly very healthy. His body wasn't used to the foods he was putting in his body at that time. Just the popcorn alone held almost all the calories he used to get in a single day from his salads. Sam supposed that he probably never would've seen the day that he'd reach thirty or have the opportunity to slow down enough to gain a little weight. But then again, if he had to say what the cause would be for it, he would have, without a doubt, say that his downfall would be butter.

 

At first, Sam would stick to just a small bowl of popcorn and drizzling a bit of vegetable oil on it... but then he decided to use the butter, knowing he'd enjoy it a lot more. After just a week the butter was gone, and Dean got suspiciously curious for the first time regarding Sam's eating habits.

 

Sam loved it. The light, airy texture of the popcorn with the rich, salty flavour of the butter was exquisite every single time that he ate it.

 

Most people had a limit for butter – if something was drenched in it, it was just too much. Even Dean was one of those people. But not Sam. If he made a large bowl of popcorn, which he'd started to do three or four times a week for his snack about two months after moving into the bunker, he could easily melt down 3/4 of a cup to 1 cup of butter and splash it onto his popcorn.

 

One time, Dean was in the kitchen the same time that Sam was pouring kernels into the hot-air popper. He'd already melted down a cup of butter and it was on top of the popper to ensure it stayed warm. Dean raised an eyebrow, pointed in the direction of the bowl filled with butter, and poked Sam in the side, prodding at the bit of softness that had accumulated along Sam's sides.

 

While the popcorn was popping, Dean teased Sam and kept prodding his sides, secretly liking the way that his flesh yielded a little to the pads of his fingers and dimpled a little bit around each tip. Sam squirmed out from where Dean was crowding him up against the counter when his popcorn was ready and went into his room to eat it after splashing the butter onto the popcorn.

 

Over the first year in the bunker, Dean made a point of being there when Sam made his popcorn. He started to steal a couple pieces of popcorn that weren't so thoroughly buttered while he continued to tease Sam and his slowly growing waistline. Sam started to eat with Dean while they watched television or he did something else next to him until Dean started to make dinner.

 

Dinner was also something that changed slightly over the course of moving in. Dean eventually started to experiment more with richer, fancier meals than just burgers about once or twice every week.

 

He learned which foods Sam could never resist. Buttery mashed potatoes was one of his favourites. Same for Dean's melt-in-your mouth roasts. His pasta with a white sauce so good... and so buttery... so heavenly that Sam liked to take a spoon of the sauce from the pot and lick it from that before it got poured on the pasta. And his burgers. And his homemade pies with crusts so buttery and flaky that they actually did melt in your mouth. To be honest, Sam loved everything that Dean made for them, but always had a preference for the foods in which Dean threw slabs of butter into.

 

Over time, Dean got more touchy-feely with Sam.

 

Touching Sam's arm casually.

Pressing himself right next to Sam and staying there.  
Trailing his fingers along Sam's soft sides in a gentle caress.

Starting to rest his head on Sam's shoulder.

Hugging Sam and not letting go until he had to.

Spoon-feeding Sam dessert.

 

Sam never complained. He enjoyed Dean's contact. It wasn't as if Sam hadn't harboured a crush on his brother for years on end. If Dean was willingly touching him in these romantic ways, Sam was just going to let him. If he leaned into Dean's touch more than he was willing to admit to... well neither person was complaining.

 

It wasn't until Dean was trying out a bunch of different dessert recipes prior to a holiday where they were going to have Linda Tran, Charlie, Jody, Garth and a few of his family members, and whoever else they knew that they could wrangle up come over for a feast a couple days after the holiday actually occurred – all cooked by Dean.

 

He'd already decided on having both beef and turkey. Timing wasn't an issue, since he'd installed an extra oven in the kitchen because he'd often want to have something cooking for dinner and something baking for dessert simultaneously. However, Dean knew that he'd be camped out in the kitchen the entire day – constantly basting the meat over and over to ensure that it stayed moist.

 

Garth had said that they could meet in town the day before and he'd help him with the preparation of the food for the werewolves.

 

Aside from that, he'd have a large pot of the creamiest mashed potatoes that have ever been made, a tub of stuffing – made from scratch, of course, vegetables with melted butter on top of them, and whatever else struck his fancy when he would be cooking it.

 

But Dean was having a hard time deciding which desserts to make. He was primarily stuck between deciding whether to make brownies, cannolis, mousse, trifle, a strawberry cheesecake, or all of them. In conjunction with pecan and apple pie, of course.

 

So one day when Sam went out, Dean prepared all of these desserts to have them ready for when Sam came back.

 

When Sam arrived back at the bunker and saw the spread that Dean had out for him, he groaned at him. Half-hearted protests like “I _just_ had to go out to buy new clothes” and “I had something to eat in town” spilled from Sam's mouth, even as he eagerly opened it to chew and swallow the first brownie bite that Dean placed on his tongue. And the next. And the rest of the half pan of brownies that somehow ended up all in his stomach.

 

Dean placed a soothing hand over Sam's tummy, a silent question to ask if all was okay, and brought over a goblet of the trifle he'd carefully garnished with strawberries and chocolate shavings when Sam gave a slight nod. He dipped a spoon into the goblet and placed it against Sam's lips, feeding him each delicious spoonful of the fluffy dessert.

 

Then, he brought over a slice of the cheesecake for both Sam and himself. They each ate their piece while chatting idly about things. Sam was no longer hungry, and bordering on full by the time he'd finished his slice, but he hadn't told Dean to stop, and he still had two more desserts to feed him.

 

Bringing over one cannoli from the platter of many and a bowl of the mousse, Dean gave Sam a kiss on the lips before settling in to feed Sam. The creamy texture inside the buttery, flaky pastry was heavenly, and Sam moaned around the dessert where it was being held by Dean's fingers. He finished the cannoli, telling Dean how great it was, and ate his mousse while Dean brought over the platter of cannolis.

 

Sam's eyes widened when he saw how much there was on the plate, knowing that Dean intended to feed him the entire thing, if he could. Dean knew what Sam was thinking when he saw the loaded plate and reassured him, while stroking his hand over Sam's tummy undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, that if he couldn't handle it, he didn't have to eat it. But they both knew that Sam could at the very least eat most of it.

 

Dean took his hand off of Sam's tummy and put it under his other hand, which was holding a cannoli in front of Sam's mouth. He opened his mouth and ate it. This continued on until most of the platter was gone, with interspersing belly rubs when Sam moaned, shifted in slight discomfort, or whenever Dean just wanted to cop a feel. He was past full, but not completely stuffed quite yet.

 

Then Sam started to play with it a little more. He'd lick the whipped cream and chocolate shavings from the flaky pastry first, plunging his tongue into the horn and swirling it around a bit before biting the pastry as seductively as one can bite into a pastry. All but one were in Sam's tummy.

 

By the time he had the last one in front of his mouth, Dean had a hand constantly rubbing soft, soothing circles over his stretched out tummy – properly sitting in his lap a bit and pushing the flaps of fabric where his jeans were undone away from each other. Dean had commented that even though Sam had packed so much food away, his tummy was still so soft from all the other food that had been in there previously. Flushing bright red, Sam looked away from Dean, but turned his head back so that he could eat the last of the heavenly cannolis. But he didn't chew it immediately. Sam imitated fellation around the cannoli for a few seconds first before swirling his tongue around it to catch the cream that wasn't inside of it before taking bites of what was left, chewing and swallowing very slowly.

 

Dean kept rubbing his tummy gently when he spoon fed him the last of the mousse. Sam's skin was hot to the touch and he felt so stretched out and full at this point.

 

“What do you think, Sammy?” Dean asked. “Which ones are good enough for our guests?”

 

Sam groaned that all of them were absolutely amazing.

 

Dean grinned widely and planted a kiss on Sam's cheek before gathering all the dishes and washing them, giving Sam some time to digest. By the time he came out of the kitchen again, Sam was standing up and had taken off his tight pants.

 

He led Dean into an empty bedroom that they often spend their nights in together and had Dean make sweet, gentle love to him. Dean took extra care not to jostle Sam's tummy too much after he'd prepared Sam until he was begging for him to just slide his cock in there already.

 

In the afterglow, Sam asked Dean, “Wanna go make me some popcorn?”

 

To which Dean told him lightly to rest for a little bit longer and then make his butter-soaked monstrosity himself.

 

Sam smiled and snuggled closer to Dean's side, nestled in the warm embrace within his brother's arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
